Page 10 of The Crown of Moonlight
A growl somewhere nearby raises the hair on my arms, a low rumble of anger like dogs snarling.I can’t see anything, and I’ve no idea where the sound comes from.Then the Ever’s attention flicks over my shoulder, his brow furrowing.
Magic whispers in my mind, and that moment of distraction is all I need.I drive my hips down into the moss, using all my strength.The Ever doesn’t budge, but I reach for the power inside me and use it to draw magic from the root-threaded soil and the stone that lies beneath it.I pull the magic into myself the way I do when I call the sword into being.
The three rings flare hot in my pocket, hot enough that I feel the heat through my skirt, and they give me another stream of power.My blood burns as magic pours into me, the rake of it an agony as sharp as nails.Suddenly, I’m flooded with more than I’ve ever dreamed of wielding.
Too much.
Raw power explodes from me in a burst that shakes the ground and pitches me upward, throwing the Ever off.Pain leaves my teeth buzzing and every cell inside me raw.
The Ever lands on the moss while rocks rattle and trees shake around us, scree and pebbles tumbling downhill from the ridge.
I throw myself on top of him before he can collect himself, pushing my hand against his wounded chest so I can use his pain against him.With my other hand, I press my dagger to his ear hard enough to make him hesitate.
Leaning in close, I separate each word.“I took your valuables to keep them safe.You were out of your head, and someone on the road below could have heard you or seen you.You’re welcome to take them back now that you’re awake.The swords are over the ridge, where I left the two Ever bastards you wanted buried.Your mare is tied by the stream.Not that you seem concerned about her, but she’ll recover if you handle her carefully.”
The Ever’s jaw clenches, his eyes wide as he stares at me.
I release his chest and pull the rings and the letter from my pockets.The crystals hum louder in my hand, and they’re charged and hot, like lightning coiled within my palm.I throw them down beside the Ever’s hand.
“There, now you have everything back.And if you have the strength to attack me, there’s nothing to stop you from walking over the ridge, retrieving your horse, and leaving.The military road will take you all the way to the Western Sea if you survive long enough.But if—when—you inevitably collapse, do me the courtesy of waiting until you’ve gone beyond the next two villages so you’re outside Domhnall territory.Your kind has brought enough ruin to our clan already.”
I push myself to my feet and stand a moment, looking down at him.He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move.For one treacherous second, I hope for a word, anything to show he isn’t the monster he’s proven himself to be.
My hands won’t stop trembling.I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds—the sting a welcome anchor.I need something to focus on other than the Ever and the terrifying truth that part of me wants to excuse what he’s done, to believe it’s pain and fever and fear.Part of me still wants to heal him, to help him—and not just because the gallows loom over us as long as he remains on Domhnall land.
I can’t afford to think like that.The Ever has shown me there are things I fear more than I fear the gallows.For that and many other reasons, the sooner I’m rid of him, the better.
Chapter 6
Walk the Shadow
Chyr
M
oss crackles beneath me, hard with frost where the sun never reaches.Cold seeps through my clothes, and through the shallow breaths I drag into my lungs, pressing into the raw ache across my chest.
Every heartbeat drives guilt and shame deeper into my bones, piling atop the regrets I already carry.
The woman bound my wounds when she had every reason to let me die.She risked herself, risked her people, to help me.I repaid her by pinning her to the earth like an enemy whom I needed—wanted—to punish.
Cruelty is a game in my family, but I swore I would be better.
The three Veilstone rings lie sunken in the moss where she threw them, and General Mora’s letter rests against my hand, moisture seeping into a corner of the parchment.Her words echo in my mind: “If you’re well enough to attack me…”
Thinking she had stolen from me felt like a personal betrayal, and I don’t particularly want to examine that.Whether it’s the fever or something about the woman herself, I’m not behaving rationally.
Worse yet, I felt her become aware of me, and a part of me wanted her to respond.Though not with fear.Never fear.
She’s back on the horse and riding towards the road.I see her in flashes: the fire of her copper-gold hair, the dark shimmer of her stallion’s coat, blacker than the shadows.
My ribs scream, and my vision narrows as I pick up the rings and the letter.I drag myself to my feet.
“Wait!”My voice cracks.“Please.”
She doesn’t turn.
Two smudges of grey trail behind her, revealed when they block out trees and vanishing again in the open spaces.Long-legged, lean, and forged of twilight, the Shadehounds who growled at me earlier trot like docile pets behind her, ghosting silently through the bracken.
